Threads of Prayer

Years before my birth, God began weaving the fabric of my life with vibrant threads of prayer. Without those threads, I would not have been born.

In 1929, Nicolai Siemens was imprisoned in Moscow’s dreaded Lubjanka Prison, awaiting deportation to Siberia because he was a minister of the gospel.

Meanwhile, in Chicago, Illinois, his older brother picked up the Chicago Daily Tribune and read, “Russia Deports 2,000 Germans to Siberia Camps.” Sensing his brother Nicolai was among them, he felt burdened to hold a prayer vigil entreating God for Nicolai’s release.

Sixty kneeling prayer warriors filled the Pilgrim’s Mission Church interceding into the night until my uncle announced, “We can stop now. I have the conviction God has answered our prayers.” Indeed God had answered and, during the same hour, the man who became my father was miraculously released and reunited with his wife and newborn son. Within days they exited Moscow’s Red Gate on a train to freedom.

My family later immigrated to Blaine, Washington. By 1944, the family had grown to five daughters and two sons. My mother, forty-four, was content with her large family and didn’t want any surprise additions. But her daughters were praying for a baby sister. Soon used baby clothes were laundered and hung on the clothesline, announcing my mother’s pregnancy.

As the birth approached, my brothers predicted, “It’s going to be a boy,” and then added, “We already have too many girls.”
“Did you pray about it?” the girls questioned. The boys hung their heads sheepishly. “We did! And we prayed for a girl,” my sisters exclaimed with confidence. I’m thankful to be the answer to their prayers.

My life was further woven by the fervent prayers of godly parents who interceded daily for my siblings and me. As a result, I accepted the Lord as a preschooler and learned the value of prayer through family devotions and my parents’ example. I later married a Christian man and we raised a son and a daughter.

Then came 1988, a year of great change in my life. Within six months, both of my aging parents died and our firstborn left for college. I felt the loss of my parents’ prayers and asked, “Who will pray for us now?” God answered through “Moms In Touch,” an international organization of mothers who pray for their children and schools. I found kindred hearts to join me in prayer for my children.

In 2002, prayer became meaningful to me in a new way when I was diagnosed with incurable cancer. Through the prayers of many I recently celebrated five and a half years of remission. God blessed me during these years with two more grandchildren for a total of four. When our youngest, Owen, faced open-heart surgery at 17 months, I organized a circle of prayer for him and people prayed for Owen around the clock. God answered these prayers with a successful surgery. Now Owen is an active, happy two-and-a-half-year-old who loves to pray, often exclaiming, “Pray Jesus, me.”

As I look back on my life, I see the ripple effect of prayer. Not only did prayer change me, but it touched my entire family. My husband and I pray together regularly, and we have a heart for prayer. Our extended family (siblings and their families) meet regularly to pray for family needs. Although my extended family has faced struggles such as illness, alcoholism, and divorce, we’ve rejoiced in God’s blessings of healing, godly marriages, and new births—both physical and spiritual. We continue to reap the fruit of my parents’ faithful prayers. As we follow their example, our prayers become the lasting threads woven into the fabric of future generations.